Sister Tiger
by adoranymph
Summary: He had been her first love, and she adored his son like her own little brother. Even after learning of his death, she knew she would never forget how he had made her feel. Nor would Taiga Fujimura ever forget the promise she had made to Kiritsugu Emiya. A post-companion to "Love Sprung from Winter", from Taiga's POV.
1. Dark Night

**Part One**

 **Dark Night**

Taiga Fujimura was far too prone to procrastination for her own liking, but she simply couldn't help it. As smart as she was, and as determined as she was to be the best English teacher Homurahara Academy had ever seen, she couldn't help losing focus amongst her stacks of exam paperwork for her first ever batches of students, and letting her mind wander into a daydream. Perhaps it was lucky that her daydream was about Kiritsugu Emiya, remembering those days when he would tutor her in English, giving her no quarter as he refused to speak to her in anything _but_ English, a teaching method that Taiga had learned to gulp down and bear putting up with, for in the end it had produced excellent results.

"Not to worry, Miss Taiga: your teacher has utter faith in you," Kiritsugu would always conclude their English lessons in that selfsame language, wagging his finger at her, his dark eyes curiously playful, along with his smile, and enough to spark Taiga's eagerness in being around him, even in the setting of a grueling English tutorial.

"Ah, Kiritsugu…" she sighed, leaning back on her hands as she sat at the little low table in the main room of her little efficiency apartment—though she spent more time at the Fujimura compound or at the Emiya house than she did here. This place might as well have been considered simply the private study where she kept a futon for sleeping.

As much as she wanted to dwell on just the thought of Kiritsugu's place in her life, eventually she did force herself to resume focus when she imagined how much he'd scold her for not doing right by her students and getting this exam prep work done. After all, that was the whole reason she actually hadn't stopped by the Emiya house that day as she usually did, and she wasn't about to waste this. She was so close to being finished. It was a beautiful moon out tonight, she at least wanted to see that!

"Right!" she said to no one in particular, pumping one hand into a fist. "Back to work!" And for a little bit, she managed to work at it solidly, the only sound that of her pencil scratching on paper.

But then she began to wonder if Kiritsugu and his son Shirou weren't out right now on that garden porch, admiring that moon together. She wouldn't be surprised. She knew it had been a while since the two of them had sat out on the porch together, but she had a feeling that tonight they were. And if they were, she hoped they were both happy right now. Kiritsugu, for his part, always carried an air of melancholy about him that he tried to hide but Taiga noticed anyway, and perhaps that was why he brought out the zaniest aspects of her personality when she was with him, because she was always making an effort to coax a smile or a laugh out of him, and that effort usually succeeded, much to Taiga's own happiness. For indeed, whenever she saw Kiritsugu smile or laugh, it evoked a precious golden light inside of her, as though she had uncovered a miraculous gem she could polish and protect.

The same went for Shirou too. Even if he wasn't Kiritsugu's biological son, the fact that he was adopted wouldn't have been clear right away to any stranger. Sure, they would notice fairly quickly that physically there was little if any resemblance between them, but it was also clear that there was a bond between them that Taiga found endearing. According to Kiritsugu, Shirou had been the lone survivor of that terrible and mysterious fire that had consumed much of Shinto five years ago. When she had first met Shirou, her first thought had been how absolutely adorable he was, and from there she couldn't help but make her own adoption in her heart, proclaiming herself as his big sister, insisting that he call her "Fuji-nee".

Being called Taiga, she couldn't abide by that anymore since its likeness to the English word, "tiger" and the fact that having those tiger stripes on her _shinai_ had disqualified her from _kendo_ championships across the country felt something like a terrible brand—although she didn't mind somehow when Kiritsugu called her "Taiga-chan", the same way her father and grandfather did. In fact, she recalled blushing the first time she heard him add the "chan", and she was more than a little embarrassed about it. But she could live with that.

Even so, she adored Kiritsugu and Shirou both, as this tiny, extended family that she was determined to see live out their days with nothing but joy. She couldn't remember how it was she had grown so determined in this, she just realized one day long ago that that was how she felt about them. No matter how many times Shirou got nettled with her for her playful teasing, he had also grown from that numb, empty little shell that had survived that traumatizing fire and was building a life for himself, looking up to both Kiritsugu and Taiga as if to ask, "Really? It's okay if I just live my life as I wish?" and even in that respect, he was infinitely kind, and always did his utmost to be helpful to anyone he could.

Just like Kiritsugu.

As her feelings regarding that man stirred awake in her heart despite her efforts to suppress them, she gave another sigh and gave up trying to stay seated upright anymore, the end of her pencil between her teeth, whereupon she had begun to gnaw on it like an agitated beaver. She let herself collapse onto her back, where she lay on the floor and tucked her hands behind her head, swinging her stocking feet and relishing in the comfortable feel of her brand new pair of cotton capri cut-offs. For a few minutes, she swung the pencil back and forth with her teeth, before she tore it out of her mouth and flung it away, as if in rebellion. She heard it clatter when it hit the wall after rolling across the carpet.

Meanwhile, something niggled at her mind, a tiny regret that she hadn't been able to pay her usual visit that day. Maybe it was what Kiritsugu had said to her the night before, the last time they had spoken, when he had asked her if she would be willing to be the one to look after Shirou should something happen to him, the way he had hugged her when she had told him yes, the feel of his warm arms around her, the sound of his heartbeat against her ear. She couldn't remember another moment in her life when she'd been so filled with electric happiness. They had spoken beside that iris patch he still tended so attentively. He had given her one of those blossoms once, and she had slid it in her hair, to which he had said something to the effect of how lovely she had looked with it. Or that was the way she chose to remember it.

The smile she wore now at these memories gave her a sense that she was floating, and it was a wonderful feeling. Then a quiet giggle bubbled out of her, one that helped to keep at bay the darker thoughts, the ones that liked to creep out from the back of her mind now and then of late and point out to her things like, _Doesn't Kiritsugu-san look a little more tired than he should?_ or _How is it that a man as young as Kiritsugu-san has to move around like a man three times his age these days?_ Or the fact that they were long overdue for another _kendo_ match, and that the last time they'd sparred, he'd looked for a second like he'd keel over before he'd managed to catch his breath.

Yet another reason for Taiga's upswings of energy—she didn't deal with anxiety well, and she either had to distract herself with good thoughts like these cherished moments she'd had in the past with Kiritsugu, or hyperactivity.

She began to tap her feet on the carpet to the rhythm of a restless energy as the stillness of the night sank in.

She was just contemplating the prospect of paying the Emiya house another visit tomorrow, and pay them back twice for having missed out on today, when her phone rang and jarred her from her thoughts.

Giving a small sound of exasperation, Taiga forced herself to roll off of the floor and crawl over to the little table where the phone sat and pick up the receiver.

"Hello, this is Fujimura."

"Fuji-nee!"

"Shirou?"

Taiga became at once as alert as a skittish cat at the note of panic straining in Shirou's voice on the other end of the line.

"It's _jii-san_!" Shirou's voice cried, referring of course to Kiritsugu, whom he'd always called "old man" rather than "Dad". "Something's wrong with him, I can't wake him up!"

"Can't wake him up?"

"We were talking and then he fell asleep and…." Poor Shirou sounded on the edge of tears. Taiga had never heard him sound so distraught. "I don't know what to do…Fuji-nee, please, help him…."

A thrill of fear fell into Taiga's stomach like a bucket of ice. But she quickly turned that into action. "Quick, Shirou, call 110! I'll be right over!"

"Okay…."

Taiga's heart kept trying to claw its way out of her throat as she barreled down the road five minutes later on her brand new yellow scooter. The engine buzzed through the quiet night, and all she could think was how she wished she could go even faster. It felt like a painful eternity before her way to the Emiya house was lit by red and blue flashing lights.

Skidding to a stop past the gate, Taiga leapt off, tearing her helmet off her head. "Shirou!" she called out to the pack of policemen and emergency responders. "Shirou!"

"Fuji-nee!"

Taiga followed the sound like a beacon, muttering hasty "Sorrys" and "Excuse mes" as she pushed her way through to the main room and then to the porch overlooking the garden within the compound.

She'd barely freed herself from the throng when Shirou, half her size, slammed into her with enough force to knock her off her feet.

"Shirou...!"

Shirou threw his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder, as though trying to hide from the scene around him. "Fuji-nee!" he croaked. "There was nothing I could do, I couldn't save him!" He was shaking as Taiga had never seen him shake before. "He's gone...Fuji-nee, he's gone..."

And looking over Shirou's shoulder, Taiga saw something that made her want to hide too.

"Oh no...Kiritsugu-san..." she moaned.

If it weren't for the fact his chest was quite still, and that the only thing about him that stirred was his dark hair from the soft night breeze, Kiritsugu might have been asleep where the medics had him laid out on the porch. So he and Shirou _had_ been watching the moon. At least he had that beautiful last memory to carry with him. Actually, his face had a very peaceful, smiling look, far more peaceful than she had ever seen on him before, a further testament to the terrible truth...

...that Kiritsugu was dead.

Suddenly Taiga's lip was trembling as this truth sank in, and something split painfully within her chest.

Her heart.

"Kiritsugu-san..." she rasped.

Shirou let out a deep howl that was muffled by her shoulder, but Taiga felt the power of his grief ripple through her body from that wail, as his tears soaked through her shirt.

He clutched her tighter as he let out another heaving sob. "Fuji-nee...what'll we do...Fuji-nee...?"

In face of Shirou's sorrow, Taiga forgot her own, and hugged him back just as tightly. "Everything'll be all right, Shirou," she told him, comforting him as she had done those nights when he'd grow distressed over Kiritsugu's being gone so long when he'd take his mysterious trips abroad, rubbing his shaking back and doing her best to smile for him, since he couldn't. "I'm still here. I won't leave you."

At this, Shirou found the courage to lift his face from her shoulder and blink his tear-filled golden brown eyes. "You won't?" he sniffled.

Taiga brushed back his red hair with sisterly warmth. "Of course not."

Shirou bravely tried to work up some semblance of a smile himself, even as tears went on streaming down his face. "'Kay," he gulped.

She left him only for a moment with a reassuring pat on the head when she had to stand to speak with the man in charge of issuing a certificate of death and making arrangements for the wake and funeral. After that she got in touch with her grandfather and let him know what was going on, and within half an hour, both he and her father, Kichirou Fujimura, arrived on the scene, naturally with the intention of both offering comfort as well as toasts of _sake_ to Kiritsugu's memory.

In the meantime, Shirou had quietly found a spot where he could sit with his knees tucked in, and it occurred to Taiga as she looked over at him from the table in the main room that he was acting much as he had when he had first come to live with Kiritsugu and was dealing with wrapping his head around the trauma of the Shinto fire.

He was withdrawing into himself, regressing. Though at the very least it didn't seem he was going to let this turn him back into a mute, as he had been when Taiga had first met him. The thought of him curling up with grief though was almost more than Taiga could bear, on top of losing Kiritsugu…and she'd never even really been able to tell the man how she'd felt about him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Taiga gave an exasperated sigh. "Not right now, okay Dad?"

Kichirou raised a hand in acquiescent surrender and then knocked back a sip of the _sake_ Raiga had brought with them, while at the same time loosening the suit tie around his neck.

"Well, if you aren't going to talk then have a drink already!" her grandfather insisted, his usual black _kimono_ ideal for the occasion at hand, reaching across the table for the bottle and an empty glass.

"Grandfather, no, please…." Taiga repeated her initial refusal, glancing Shirou's way again, watching him as he crouched in the corner with his face buried in his arms.

The arrangements for the wake were already being made, including the construction of the coffin. Then at the wake there would be a viewing where everyone would have the chance to say their goodbyes if they wished, and offer flowers and candles. On the one hand, such contemplations made Taiga nervous, considering the cloudburst flicker of emotions that had erupted when she first laid eyes on Kiritsugu's body, the hollow deadness of it, how both sad and unsettling that was, and her own anxiety with facing it again. Much as she knew she wanted to be strong for Shirou, and do Kiritsugu proud, she wasn't sure right now if she would have the courage to say her piece when the time came.

Or perhaps it was just that she didn't want to. Didn't want to expect that he was gone from them so suddenly. Sure, he had seemed to have been weighed down by some strange infirmity the last couple of years or so, but in his eyes…there had still been something of a youthful fire…one that must have burned even brighter before whatever it was that had happened to him had done its damnedest to snuff it out. Even so, she had been drawn to the flame she could see was still there, and there were so many damn times where she had wanted to speak to that flame, so many damn times that flame had spoken to _her_ , and she hadn't known what to say because she'd been too damn scared of her own feelings.

After all, she had been much younger than him.

And the weight of regret that she had never been able to outright tell Kiritsugu what she'd felt about him pressed crushingly in upon Taiga again, making the offer of a drink all the more tempting. But she also knew she would never be able to forgive herself if she did something stupid like get drunk in front of Shirou.

Then she felt a hand on her arm, warm and reassuring, and looked over at Kichirou, who gave her a soft, comforting smile. "You don't have to stick around us adults right now, Taiga-chan," he told her with a kind of sober positivity, knocking her lightly and playfully on the chin with a knuckle.

 _Ah. Kiritsugu-san, you came to call me that too…like I was special to you…._

Even as Taiga knew her father was trying to give her the escape she desperately wanted, at least a little, she still had to scowl. "I _am_ an adult, Dad. I have a job and live on my own now."

"Ah, that's only the you on the outside," said Kichirou with a wink, taking another sip of _sake._

"Heh, heh, the boy has a point," Raiga agreed with a grin, and now it was Kichirou's turn to scowl at his adoptive father for the same reason his own daughter had scowled at him. Actually, this was made all the more poignantly amusing by the fact that father and daughter very much resembled each other in the face and the hair, just that the father was a much more masculine version. And of course didn't have hair long enough to be worn in a ponytail.

At this, Taiga had to give at least a small smile, and with that, she wordlessly rose from the table, dropped a kiss on her father's head (who felt it necessary to give Raiga a grin of victory at this), and then went to depart from the room, looking over her shoulder once at Shirou.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Shirou looked up, and she gave him another smile of reassurance, which in turn coaxed a little smile out of him, one that said he trusted her to carry him through this. Nodding in some satisfaction, Taiga disappeared into the hall, hearing her father's and grandfather's quiet voices behind her as they began discussing far graver things.

Once she reached the bathroom, she shut herself in, but didn't lock the door, just so she could have a moment to herself and give into the sorrow that was so terrible it was making her sick in the stomach. A moment where she could sink to her knees, hugging herself and letting her own tears fall, gasping quiet sobs. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried like this, after she'd led such a relatively sunny life. If she had to think of it, the last time she'd really cried had been when she'd been very small.

She felt that small again, weeping for the first man she had come to love, weeping with that terrible, youthful certainty that she would never love like that again, weeping for the man Kiritsugu Emiya who had always smiled as if hiding a terrible sadness of his own, one that neither she nor Shirou had ever been able to shake from him.

"Damn you, Kiritsugu-san…damn you…damn you…damn you…you…deserved so much better…I just know it…."

The only hope she had left to her for his sake was that wherever he was now, he was finally, truly happy at last. But then, thinking about it that way somehow broke Taiga's heart even more, and she let the rest of her feelings break through and spill everywhere along with her tears as she cried out and wailed openly, her grief echoing pitifully against the polished bathroom walls. Then she curled into a ball and let herself tip over onto her side, shaking and crying, taking the defensive stance of a hedgehog.

And then she must've fallen asleep, because shortly afterward she found herself waking up hours later in the guest bedroom, where her father must've carried her, the way he used to when she was little and she'd fall asleep after a long trip, those days when working for the Fujimura _yakuza_ didn't make him quite so busy.

Quite aware that exhaustion hadn't left her, Taiga promptly rolled over and fell back asleep, where she fell into a very vivid dream where she found herself on an empty plane of blowing dust overlooked by a low, cloudy sky.

But then this depressing vista opened up into a patch blue-skied spring, and grass and flowers were blooming beneath her feet while birdsong floated on the much kinder, gentler air. Looking around her for what had caused this abrupt change in the previously bleak scenery, Taiga came face to face with a woman in a gown of white trimmed with gold. A woman who was slender and very beautiful, with the air of both a sage and a child. A woman who was both playful and regal when she smiled. A woman whose beauty was actually quite strange, her hair silver and her eyes red.

"Um…hello…?" Taiga gave an uncertain wave.

The woman went on smiling radiantly at Taiga, and then she said in a clear, sweet voice: "Thank you…thank you, Taiga-chan…."

Taiga didn't even care that this woman had called her by her first name, or rather, she was more intrigued than annoyed because she had no idea who this woman was, and yet she had spoken to her like…

…Kiritsugu….

"Hey, who _are_ you? Do you—did you…know…Kiritsugu…?"

The woman blinked slowly, as though thinking of something that affected her deeply, made her pensive and full of soft affection. Like a widow remembering a dearly beloved husband.

"Ah yes…." Those red eyes flicked up to Taiga's face. "I cannot thank you enough…for what you have done for him…but still…thank you…again…."

And then before Taiga could ask anything further, the woman burst into a cloud of butterflies…yet they were butterflies…whose wings resembled the petals of…

…iris blossoms.

And when Taiga blinked open her eyes in the rosy light of dawn, she felt a beautiful new strength within her she didn't realize was there before, and suddenly she felt she could face that day, and what lay ahead, far more than she'd felt she could last night.


	2. Grim Day

**Part Two**

 **Grim Day**

So…even if she actually _could_ feel like she could actually handle this day better than she previously thought, it didn't mean that Taiga was any less reluctant about facing it. When she woke up in Emiya guest bedroom, the numbness of sleep faded rather quickly and everything about what happened yesterday, the memory of seeing Kiritsugu dead, hit her painfully, and made it more difficult than it usually did to drag herself out of bed.

And then she had that weird dream stuck in her brain, a dream of an ethereally beautiful woman whom she'd never met, yet felt she knew in some way. Taiga had the unfortunate habit (among others) of getting stuck on things that puzzled her, to the point that they drove her as much to distraction as her fixated feelings for Kiritsugu had.

Even on that odd (though admittedly fun and exciting) encounter with those two foreigners all those years ago. Even though the boy had been a surly, skinny thing who seemed to have dragged himself here from England and was further disgruntled by his inability to speak Japanese, and even though his ridiculously burly, red-headed companion of a man had had to translate, and seemed quite jovially the opposite of the boy—Waver and Alexi, were their names?—well, she had found Waver's disgruntlement just a little endearing. Now she thought of it, she felt the same way about Shirou when he'd get disgruntled with her. Maybe that was the reason. She liked making boys grouchy when she knew they couldn't really get mad at her, or were being grouchy to hide something more positive toward her.

And then there had been all those strange, scary things before that mysterious fire in Shinto…like that golden light on the Mion River that the authorities had explained away with some kind of sciencey-sounding thing, or like that serial killer that had been abducting and killing children, almost en masse. For a while that awful incident was all the students at Homurahara Academy had been able to talk about, such that it had even made Reikan Ryuudou uncharacteristically solemn, but of course for the sake of his little brother Issei.

Taiga gave a low grumble. Why was it she managed to let her mind wander to the most random things as her half-asleep brain tried to process the reboot procedure of waking up?

What made it a little easier after a few more minutes of meandering rumination was the smell of food cooking.

And then a bitter taste settled in her mouth, as she realized what _that_ implied. But then that at least provided her with even greater motivation to finally get out of bed.

Rubbing her eyes as she slid the door into the main room open, she indeed found Shirou in the kitchen cooking breakfast, as she had suspected once she'd sniffed out the scent of cooking food, and the bitter taste she knew was guilt that it wasn't _her_ doing the cooking. She felt less like an adult and more like a petulant child, which unfortunately didn't improve her mood.

Just so, she was determined to take what weight off Shirou's shoulders she still could, and insinuated herself into the kitchen without a word, opening a cabinet and taking out plates.

Shirou—who still needed a stool to be high enough to work at the stove ( _properly_ work at it anyway)—looked over at her from where he was frying a mess of eggs, rice, and vegetables, giving a small gasp of surprise at seeing her.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Good morning, Shirou."

"Ah…good morning…Fuji-nee," he said, and even tried to work up a smile of his own.

So it was that Taiga at least saw to it that Shirou didn't have a breakfast alone, seeing as how her father and grandfather had returned to the Fujimura compound. From the note her father had left her, they had made the necessary calls and Kiritsugu's wake and funeral had all been arranged as far as setting dates was concerned: the wake was to be tomorrow night, the funeral the following day.

That fact seemed to hang over her and Shirou's breakfast, making it a decidedly morose and silent meal at first.

But Taiga couldn't stand seeing Shirou pick over a meal that ironically tasted so damn delicious in her opinion. Though she herself was on the edge of crying because it was so damn delicious, and poor Kiritsugu was no longer alive to enjoy such things. Perhaps that was why it seemed so ironic, because Shirou had never cooked something so delicious, his best work yet, and it was like Kiritsugu had to die first to make it happen.

More than that though, it was just so incredibly sad. So sad in fact that for a brief moment in experiencing this feeling on the edge of tears, throat tight even as she endeavored to swallow the delicious meal, Taiga sorrowfully wondered if this meant she was cursed to spend the rest of her life with the attitude of a grieving widow.

Then she gulped that feeling down, determined that she been the one doing the gulping, not having the feeling gulp her. Besides, she couldn't go breaking down on Shirou: it was bad enough he'd already been the one to cook breakfast (though admittedly her attempts would have been grievously disastrous).

Determined to get Shirou to start talking, as his growing silence made her more and more fearful for him by the minute, she raved with more than her usual enthusiasm about the deliciousness of his rice omelets.

"I'm telling you, I could eat this every day!" She was half-considering it. She couldn't bear the fact that otherwise Shirou would be eating all alone.

Shirou, for his part, could only offer up another half-hearted half-smile for gratitude, but Taiga supposed it was at least a step in the right direction. Though it was sobering to see it on a face as young as his. Not even a teenager yet and already he was close to going around with that jaded look brought on by the trials and tribulations of growing up too fast.

How many times had the three of them sat together for dinner at this table? Just wondering made Taiga's heart ache terribly again, knowing she would never again hear Kiritsugu's particular way of laughing, one that had always thrilled her, perhaps because she had started to get this feeling after getting to know the man (as little as she did) that when he laughed, loud and free, almost like an old child, it came from the heart of a man who had once spent his life locked in a darkness that would not let him laugh...the kind of laugh that broke through years of pain and sorrow...the kind of laugh that almost hurt to hear.

And suddenly Taiga was crying. Cold tears ran soft like smooth, gel pearls down her cheeks and dripped onto her plate, even as she kept trying to smile.

"Fuji-nee?"

Taiga looked up at Shirou, who stared at her with a pinched expression: a sincere show of worry for her—of _course_ he was more worried for her than for himself. His voice had even cracked waterily when he'd spoken up.

Giving a bark of a laugh, Taiga wiped furiously at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt from yesterday, as she'd slept in it. "Damn it," she muttered. "This sucks," she added before she even really thought about it.

But it was true. Having Kiritsugu dead _did_ suck.

"I'm sorry, Shirou."

"You don't have to be sorry, Fuji-nee," Shirou murmured. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"No, I just feel terrible that you're...so sad..." Taiga clarified, though rather lamely.

But Shirou stared at her, as if her words confused him. Then he lowered his eyes back to his plate of food that he himself had cooked so excellently and of which he'd only taken one or two bites, as though forcing himself to eat was like forcing himself to swallow down that awful-tasting medicine that Kiritsugu used to give him for whatever lingering effects he'd suffered from surviving the Fuyuki Fire.

When Taiga thought about that detail she went right back to feeling like crying again. Kiritsugu had done his best for Shirou, but something dark had crept in and slowly snatched the man away from them both. There were so many things about it that were unfair, and Taiga also had a suspicion that she didn't know the half of it.

"I just didn't...wanna cry like this," Taiga growled, flicking away more tears furiously. And why did it seem like all of Shirou's tears had dried up for that matter? Last night he'd been a complete wreck, sobbing his little heart out. But quite quickly after that he had slipped into a state of numb acceptance.

Or maybe all children were like that. She sometimes forgot how resilient young children could be, even at as old as ten, like Shirou was.

With a sudden burst of frustration (with herself), Taiga dived into the rest of her meal with more growling gusto, and at this point she let the tears go. She would simply eat with the fervor of making an effort to put a stopper on them. In fact, Shirou actually watched her with a little shock, and then that half-smile actually came back, such that he found it in him at last to eat a little more himself.

Watching him, Taiga seized an opportunity. "Bet I can finish before you can."

At last: a flicker of that competitive little flame of his that she inspired in him. She could see that he was tempted, but then he withdrew at the last minute and went back to his half-hearted method of eating his breakfast.

"I'm too tired right now, Fuji-nee..."

Taiga outright frowned. She was about to argue though when she realized she was pushing him too much without thinking. With a sigh of resignation, she wiped away her leftover tears and finished eating in unusually morose defeat, reflecting that this had probably been the most emotionally erratic breakfast she had ever experienced in her life.

Of course she finished before he did, but when she stood she made it very clear that she would clean up for the both of them. Shirou stared at her again, blinking his golden-brown eyes as though bewildered.

Taiga smiled for him. "It'll take baby-steps, Shirou, but we'll get through this."

Shirou opened his mouth and then closed it, and was clearly about to open it again when the doorbell rang.

Taiga held up a finger. "Hold that thought."

Then she went to answer the door, sliding it open to a rather unexpected caller.

"Ryuudou-kun?"

Reikan Ryuudou grinned that grin of his, burly as ever, and changed out of temple dress for street clothes. "Yo, Fuji-chan." He did a kind waving salute.

"Shouldn't you be at the temple?" Taiga asked. "What're you doing here?"

"I _was_ at the temple, which is incidentally how I received some pretty bad news." Reikan turned as sober as he did those days they were speaking of the kids getting abducted and murdered five years ago. The guy hadn't changed much since high school. "I heard about what happened. Your grandfather called last night. For funeral arrangements?"

"Oh. Yeah. That." Taiga pronounced these words as though she were trying to get an unpleasant taste out of her mouth.

"Are you okay?" Reikan leaned in, lowering his voice to a rather tactfully comforting timbre, which Taiga appreciated.

Trouble was though, she didn't really know how to answer that question except with:

"Not really...I guess."

Indeed, she was sad, but she hated admitting that to Reikan. Maybe that was the problem.

Which proved to be more the case when she realized that Reikan, still crushing on her even after high school, was extending a helpful hand with this question, inviting her to open up to him.

But Taiga couldn't do it. Except to say: "I don't really wanna talk about it."

Reikan accepted her answer, closing his eyes and nodding, understanding. When he opened them, he had that smile of his on again. "Okay, I get it. No worries. Guess I'll just be getting back to the temple then."

Taiga thanked him sincerely with a bow, for she really was grateful for his amitous gesture. After she slid the door closed behind him, she heard a cough behind her and turned to find Shirou peeking out from around the corner and watching her.

"Aren't you going to go out with him, Fuji-nee?" Shirou asked, rather bluntly actually.

Taiga lifted one shoulder. "Nah. I don't need to. I'd rather hang around here if it's all the same to you."

Shirou blinked and then said, more gently, "You don't have to."

Taiga blinked back. "But of course I do. I can't leave my Shirou-kun alone."

"But..." Shirou scratched at his ear, looking forlorn. And then he said to Taiga, working up a smile again: "You should go out and have some fun."

For some reason, Taiga stared at him longer, hearing this. And then she said: "What if I said I wanted to have fun with _you_?"

Shirou blinked again too. "Eh?"

Taiga made a move in the direction of the corridor that led to the Emiya compound's _dojo_. "C'mon. Let's have at it. A grand spar session in Kiritsugu's honor."

Again, Shirou seemed to seriously consider taking her up on her offer at first, but then his thoughtful expression turned forlorn again, and he looked away, as if he felt he might be disappointing his big sister in some way, and he felt genuinely bad about it even when he couldn't help himself. "No, I...don't think I want to."

And before Taiga could try and persuade him to change his mind, he turned away, leaving Taiga to stand there listening to the sound of her own broken heart beating and the quick _snick_ of Shirou shutting his bedroom door.

* * *

One thing Taiga hadn't particularly liked about going to Homurahara Academy was the school uniforms, that crisp collar of the white shirt that went underneath the pressed, dark beige vest for the girls. Reikan and her other friend, Otoko Hotaruzuka, had made similar complaints about the high collars that mimicked Japanese military uniforms bothering them in a similar fashion. Now that she worked for Homurahara Academy as a teacher, she could relish the fact that she could now wear her own clothes (and she rather pushed the envelope with it, but at this point the older, stuffier teachers were starting to realize there would be no changing her, and the intelligent work she did more than made up for her freer personality) while her poor students still had to endure those same uniforms. Not that she got any kind of sadistic pleasure out of it, certainly, but more that she knew that one day, they'd know the same joy she had come to know in graduating and finally being able to take off that uniform for good.

But with the wake and funeral for Kiritsugu, it was back into another pressed, high-collared outfit starched to prim crispness for appearance's sake. Just that this time, it was all black. Though Taiga liked to think that if Kiritsugu had had his way, she'd be allowed to at least add a dash of color somewhere.

Which inspired her to take the innovative risks she always enjoyed taking when the occasions presented themselves to her. Earlier in the day, she had at the very least been able to drag Shirou out shopping for an outfit of his own for the funeral, and she had come across a hairpin that had featured a Japanese iris, and she'd recalled again that night Kiritsugu had given her an iris blossom from that garden of his, so precious to him, and decided to buy it for a hair piece for the wake and funeral. With this she finally settled on taking out her usual ponytail and putting her hair up such that it seemed almost cut short, which did serve to make her look even more mature.

Nevertheless, the incense smell at the wake was richly oppressive, and not at all, Taiga thought, something Kiritsugu would've wanted for his funeral guests. At the very least, she knew she didn't want it for her own funeral. None of this tugging at a stuffy collar and closed in by a heavily sweet smell. Blecch.

The wake itself was pretty high pressure too for Taiga, which didn't help matters as far as how much she was sweating underneath her pressed black dress. She felt exposed, or rather that she ran the risk of exposing her feelings concerning Kiritsugu. Her father and grandfather both knew she'd been very fond of and attached to him, but even they didn't know that in the depth of her heart...

"You're fidgeting..."

Taiga whirled around. "Dad?"

Kichirou smiled and tugged at the cuffs of his suit jacket. "See? I can fidget too."

"Heh, heh, heh." Taiga waved a nervous hand.

And then Kichirou frowned, turning serious. "You know, you don't have to do this."

Taiga lowered her hand and turned solemn too. "I'm fine, I told you. I can't have Shirou seeing me break down, after all." As she said this, she spotted Shirou crouched in the corner near Kiritsugu's coffin, here in the main room of the Emiya house, unable to bring himself to face again the sight of his father dead.

"Taiga-chan..."

"I have to look after him, Dad...Kiritsugu...made me promise so...I can't be weak..."

Kichirou reached over and brushed at a few strands of his daughter's hair. "Is part of it that you feel like you have to prove you've grown up?"

Now it was Taiga's turn to frown. "Dad..." she growled. "I'm not..."

Out of the corner of her eye, Taiga spotted a minor acquaintance of the Emiya family, an older woman, a neighbor who had said her hellos now and then to Kiritsugu, and whom Kiritsugu had helped out when he'd been able to carry a few heavy pieces of furniture into her house, Etsuko Akiyama, approaching Shirou. Shirou looked up at her, looking lost and scared of her, shy as always. She bent her knees and spoke to him kindly, and Shirou nodded and let her pat him on the head.

But after she turned away, Shirou, with a desperate look in his eyes, sprang from his corner and dashed from the room, escaping into the garden.

Taiga's heart went out to him, and she excused herself from her father to go after the boy. She heard Kichirou call out to her, and her heart ached more that she couldn't find it in herself to confide in her father the way she normally did.

"Shirou...?"

Outside, she found Shirou crying again, probably because he thought he was alone. He was crouched down by Kiritsugu's irises. Carefully, she knelt down beside him, but she refrained from touching him to give him his space.

"Shirou?" she repeated, softly.

Shirou looked up at her and quickly wiped away his tears. "Fuji-nee..."

"Oh Shirou." Taiga worked up her smile for him. This was happening a lot of late and it was getting exhausting, even for someone of her naturally perky and bright disposition. "I know this is hard for you...but...if...you wanted...we could say goodbye to Kiritsugu together..."

"But I don't wanna say goodbye…I don't him to be gone…" Shirou whimpered. The crux of the matter at last.

"I know…neither do I, Shirou…." Taiga's voice only cracked for a fraction of a second. She hoped Shirou didn't catch it. "I wish…he was still here with us…like before…."

Shirou blinked at her, and then he looked at the irises blooming in the waning moon. "Are you scared to do it too?"

"Yeah, a little," Taiga admitted.

Sniffling, Shirou considered Taiga, and then the irises again. Then he looked over at Taiga and stood, offering her his small hand. "Okay. As long as we can do it together."

Glad to see she could coax him, Taiga accepted his hand and stood, and the two of them walked together back into the house.

It was a relief too, because it appeared that most everyone else had said their final farewells to Kiritsugu, so Taiga felt even less like she was being ushered onto a stage, with everyone else off milling around and talking. She spotted her father watching her as he spoke with her grandfather and few other members of the Fujimura _yakuza_ , and she gave him a quick smile, a kind of apology for her attitude a few moments ago. His returning her smile suggested he had forgiven her, and her grandfather gave her a smile too, demonstrating a rare moment of solemnity in it.

But Taiga felt Shirou squeeze her hand—no, more like crush it—as they approached Kiritsugu laid out in his coffin. Though again, he still had that same look of his peace on his face. What could have happened to him in his life that being with Shirou and Taiga hadn't been enough to bring about such an expression of utter serenity? Why was it that the peace of death was what it took for him too look that peaceful?

Well, Taiga still liked and wanted to believe that she and Shirou had had something to do with it, that he hadn't just been a man waiting to die all this time.

"Kiritsugu-san…" she said quietly, almost on an exasperated sigh, the way she would when he was being infuriatingly, teasingly difficult, or needlessly distant, or clearly only smiling for Taiga's and Shirou's benefits, while inside—

"Thank you, for everything, _jii-san_ ," Shirou suddenly piped up as Taiga still groped for something more to say while her throat kept constricting on her. He spoke in earnest, as though something inside him were coming back awake. "I've always said it, but…no matter how many times, it could never be enough…." He audibly swallowed. "But I'll keep my promise. And I'll do my best…to grow up to be the kind of man…you would be proud of…."

Taiga felt that strong urge again to take Shirou in her arms and hug him as tight as she could as she watched him. "Shirou…."

Shirou took a deep, shuddering breath, and then offered one of the irises he'd plucked from Kiritsugu's garden. "Here. Because they always made you happy… _jii-san_."

Now it was Taiga's turn to squeeze Shirou's hand, as Shirou nodded at her to go ahead and say her piece. Her lip trembled on the words…

 _I think I've loved you since the day I first saw you…._

But then, somehow, thinking those words, it became comforting for her, and she felt calm, glad even, for this moment. Somehow, she even felt suddenly that Kiritsugu really could hear their prayers, and before she knew it, she reached over and, light as a breath, brushed her knuckles against the side of Kiritsugu's face. The warmth might've been gone, but she'd known that touch whenever she'd bopped him one for being an idiot, before hastily apologizing for having been so disrespectful to her master and mentor, only to have him hold his cheek and laugh it off with that exuberant joy of his that was like light cutting through darkness.

"Kiritsugu-san…you loveable fool," she finally said, on a light laugh under her breath, and then, still riding on the high of her feelings, she bent over and kissed the cheek she had just stroked, whispering, "I'll take care of him. Just like I promised. You don't have to worry anymore."

When she raised her head, she saw Shirou gaping at her just a little, as though surprised by her forwardness. But then he seemed to realize perhaps he shouldn't be all that surprised and closed his mouth, smiling a little even.

"Okay. Shall we go, Shirou?" Taiga offered.

Shirou nodded, and the two of them turned away from Kiritsugu. But shortly after they had left his side, the boy's small hand slid out of hers, and Taiga couldn't help feeling a little piece of herself leave with him as he hurried on ahead on his own, as if determined to carry on without her.

* * *

The funeral procession the following morning was bittersweetly lit by a gorgeously bright and sunny day. Taiga endured it all—including that accursed stiff collar again—but felt more unsettled when the walking stopped and she could no longer be comforted by the rhythm of simple forward movement: all the time while they lowered Kiritugu's ashes into the ground, she had to put up with a tight knot in her stomach that might have actually been a bomb set to go off for all she knew, only she couldn't be sure when or if it would go off. All she could do to make an effort to quell the threatening beast was twist the heels of her black dress shoes into the dirt.

Shirou stood beside her, his mouth a tight line, as though he too was holding in an explosion of screams and tears. She wanted to reach out and hold his hand, but was hesitant to do so after his having voluntarily slid his hand out of hers at the wake, and this only served to increase her melancholy.

After the burial though, Taiga did experience a little relief that the formalities, for the most part, were over. As the crowd of black-clad mourners dispersed, Taiga and Shirou were left relatively alone with the beautifully carved stone marker bearing Kiritsugu Emiya's posthumous name of "admirable". It was Reikan Ryuudou actually who had helped Taiga pick it out. She caught the young man's eye as he joined the other Ryuudou Temple monks, giving him her silent appreciation for making everything with the funeral go smoothly.

Reikan gave her that special salute of his before turning away.

Still, Shirou made no move to take Taiga's hand again.

As the two of them looked upon that solemn grave, Taiga imagined they both had the same tight lump in their throat.

Then Shirou blinked up at the sunlight. "It's too pretty out."

"Yeah, it is," Taiga agreed. She looked over at Shirou. "Well, what shall we do for dinner? We can just relax, just the two of us. If you want."

Shirou blinked at her instead of the sunlight. "Did you want to?"

"Of course. I always stay for dinner, don't I?"

"Well…okay."

"Farewell, Kiritsugu." Taiga gave Kiritsugu's grave a kind of respectful and solemn salute. "We'll visit you again."

Shirou only bit his lip, making a tiny noise in his throat as though holding back something.

That evening, despite Taiga's efforts, Shirou effectively banished her from the kitchen while he made his first attempt at hotpot, and to his credit, it turned out quite as well as his rice omelets the morning before. Unfortunately, the tastiness of the meal was diluted by the repeated moroseness of the atmosphere, even as Taiga made attempts at small talk and jokes. Though Shirou tried to laugh with her, it was more than clear that he didn't want to, that it hurt to. Truth be told, it hurt for her to do it too.

That and when Kichirou came by that evening and dropped off an overnight bag with Taiga, and Shirou saw it, there was an awkward charge in the air that his expression evoked.

"Have a goodnight, sweetheart." Kichirou squeezed his daughter's shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"Yeah, thanks Dad," said Taiga with a sincere grin of thanks before he left.

"You're staying here?" Shirou asked confusedly, approaching her as if he was wary of her. "You're not going home?"

"Shirou, this is really more my home than anywhere's been, except for maybe the Fujimura compound," Taiga told him, dropping her bag to the floor. "Anyway, I won't stay forever, I just…wanna make sure you can handle things."

"I _can_ , Fuji-nee," Shirou insisted. "You don't have to hang around…."

"But…you'll be all alone…."

"That's my life now though."

Taiga stared at Shirou, and it was more than she could bear to see him so grimly accepting of the solitary life he'd been left with when he was still so young. "Shirou-kun…."

"Please, Fuji-nee, I'll be fine," Shirou pressed.

But Taiga shook her head. "No, I have to make sure for myself. Your dad made me promise I'd do what I could to look after you."

"But, really, I will be. After school on Saturday, I'm going into town to look for a job."

"By yourself?"

"By myself."

"Well, that's all very well and good, Shirou, but I still wanna help you."

"But you don't _have_ to…." Shirou's small hands curled into fists. Bit of a danger sign.

Taiga hardly cared. She had to put her foot down. "Listen, Shirou, you're free to do what wish. If you feel you have to get a job and take part in supporting yourself, I more than applaud that, but…." She was unable to keep her voice catching in her throat. "Please don't shut me out, when all I want is to help you…please just let me help you…. There's no shame in it…."

Shirou was trembling, though whatever irritation had been building, that wasn't what was causing the shaking now. Or at least, it wasn't the only thing. His golden-brown eyes were shining, as he struggled again with grief beyond his years, and that indomitable and stubborn urge within him to always be stronger than he was a moment before.

Finally he shook his head and let out a frustrated breath. "Fine. If you're happy to, then okay." And then he turned away.

Something in the way he carried himself, as Taiga watched his retreating back, told her that he still had no intention of picking up his _shinai_ again in the _dojo_.

In the weeks that followed, that _shinai_ indeed did nothing but start to collect dust.


	3. Hope of Morning

**Part Three**

 **Hope of Morning**

 _"'Some say the world will end in fire/ Some say in ice./ From what I've tasted of desire/ I hold with those who favor fire./ But if it had to perish twice/ I think I know enough of hate/ To say that for destruction ice/ Is also great/ And would suffice.'"_

 _Taiga lifted her eyes from her book of English poetry, part of her coursework for pursuing a career as an English teacher. Kiritsugu, sitting across from her at the table in the main room at the Emiya house, met her gaze as he turned a page in the copy of the newspaper he was leafing through for himself. He smiled in that way of his that was faintly touched with sadness._

 _"That was lovely, Taiga-chan," he said sincerely._

 _But Taiga sensed he was biting back something, like Robert Frost's poem had reminded him of something he'd rather not remember. Hastily she flipped through her book and found a piece she hoped might be more agreeable. Finding one, she cleared her throat and began, again, reading off in English as it was written:_

 _"'I celebrate myself/ And what I assume you shall assume/ For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you./ I loaf and invite my soul/ I lean and loaf at my ease...observing a spear of summer grass.'"_

 _Venturing another glance at Kiritsugu, she was glad to see his expression soften to something less dented with a mysterious and distant pain. And then, even more happily, he laughed that special laugh of his, the one that always secretly brought Taiga on the edge of joyful tears._

 _"I see why you like that one," Kiritsugu teased. "It sounds just like you."_

 _Then the color rushed to Taiga's face, and she buried it in her cup of green tea, which made Kiritsugu laugh even harder, to the point that he had to clutch at a stitch in his side._

 _And despite her discomfiture, seeing him so happy, Taiga could easily forgive him, and smiled into her tea, muttering, "Ever the idiotic jerk, Kiritsugu-san."_

 _Kiritsugu managed to catch his breath then and blinked happily at Taiga, grinning broadly. "That's okay though, I can tell you're smiling anyway," he quipped._

 _Taiga set down her tea, no longer hiding. "That's because I'm glad_ you _are," she admitted._

 _Kiritsugu chuckled softly at this. "Ah, Taiga-chan..."_

As the dream of this memory faded, Taiga slowly opened her eyes, her brain fuzzily awakening back to the real world and the new morning it might bring. Recalling the dream, her heart ached for that memory, for she'd forgotten it until now, and she had a painful curiosity as to what Kiritsugu had had in mind to say but didn't when he'd said "Ah, Taiga-chan..."

Painful because now she would never know. She could only guess, and that just filled her with regret. Taiga had hoped she might be one of those lucky people who could live without regret, especially after having been born into the very laidback Fujimura clan.

She sighed and turned onto her back, throwing an arm over her eyes to block out the sun streaming into her flat. It only took her a moment to pull herself together though. Shirou was waiting, after all. And then she had school, and _kendo_ with her father (since it was Saturday and therefore a half day) until dinner, again with Shirou.

In the weeks that had passed since Kiritsugu's death, she and Shirou had settled into something of a meal routine that seemed to be growing less and less strained with each one, but still, Taiga still couldn't help worrying about how much Shirou was pushing himself to look for a job. She was thinking at this point she might ask Otoko Hotaruzuka if she might be willing to take the kid on at her family's bar, Copenhagen.

Which prompted her to give her a call, and later that afternoon after school hours found the two of them meeting at the same restaurant where Kiritsugu would sometimes take Shirou for a parfait or ice cream when the boy had been smaller.

"Yo, Fuji-chan!" Otoko waved to her from the corner booth she'd saved for them when Taiga entered the restaurant.

"Yo, Neko!" Taiga called back, calling her friend by her nickname, which had inspired her to sew the cat face on the bottom of the apron she wore for work.

She grinned as she slid into the seat across from her friend. "Thanks for meeting me. How're you?"

"Awesome! Copenhagen's on a roll, rakin' it in!" Otoko made a kind of pumped punching gesture at the air and then tossed her dark hair. "And you? Teaching going okay?"

"Yeah, I like it," Taiga said with a rare moment of quiet enthusiasm.

"I always thought you might." Otoko winked. "And meanwhile poor Ryuudou's still sweet on you."

Taiga felt the color rise in her cheeks, and just as she was stammering on a response, the waitress came to take her drink order same as she'd done for Otoko, and was happily saved the trouble.

"But you wanted to discuss that little boy of yours—Shirou, right?" Otoko stirred her own drink with her straw as she graciously turned seriously toward Taiga's intended topic of conversation.

"Yeah..." Taiga sighed and made a show of stretching her arms out. "You mentioned, since Copenhagen _has_ been doing so great, you might be looking to hire a new part-timer or two. Right?"

Otoko sipped on her drink on a long pull. "Mm-hm." She came up and smacked her lips as she swallowed. "Is little Shirou looking to get hired somewhere? How old is he?"

"Only ten," said Taiga, struggling to keep the melancholy out of her voice. When the waitress arrived with her drink, her thirst curdled in her mouth and she could only bring herself to stir the ice packed into her glass.

"And he already wants a job?"

"He's...on his own now."

"Aren't you looking after him though?"

"He... _wants_ to say he can be on his own...that he doesn't need anyone... He doesn't want…to be a burden..."

Taiga had to suddenly bite her lip to keep it from trembling as her throat grew tight and her eyes pricked. Out of a bout of hasty nerves, she sipped up just enough of her drink to lean over and drip a few drops onto the crumpled wrapper of her straw, offering her the distraction of watching it open up as a result of getting wet, stretching out like a lazy cat.

"Ah, Fuji-chan..." sighed Otoko, and Taiga was so painfully reminded of Kiritsugu saying practically the same thing she almost broke, looking up at her friend from the twitching straw wrapper in painful earnest.

But of course, Otoko was even more adept at finding a smile than Taiga, rather like Reikan.

"He'll ask for help when he needs it," she tried to reassure her.

"I'm not so sure," Taiga said forlornly. "But I was hoping...if...you took him on... I mean I know he's too young to handle the liquor, but he can do other things—he's such a hard worker." Her voice cracked, just for a moment. Clearing her throat, she continued. "I just think...if he could get something...it's hard because he's so young but...even if it helped..."

"Take his mind off losing his father?" Otoko guessed.

"Yeah," Taiga answered, feeling the weight of what she was asking lift a bit.

"I don't know…." Otoko's words tailed away and she sucked pensively on her teeth.

"Come on, Neko…I mean I went to all that trouble to track down that wine barrel that got stolen from your family's liquor stores for the bar way back when we were in school," Taiga pointed out, now putting on a show of disgruntlement.

"A wine barrel you failed to recover," Otoko pointed out in turn.

"It's the effort that counts," Taiga grumbled, but she remained humble in light of the situation. After all, she had in fact tracked down the barrel, but after getting to know the thieves—none other than that young older boy from England and his larger-than-life, leonine, red-headed man (also a foreigner, yet knowledgeable of the Japanese language)—she'd let them get away.

"Ah, I suppose so." Otoko sucked on her teeth again. And then, like that, her bright, sisterly grin said it all. "I think I can see my way to working something out."

* * *

Now it was simply a matter of steering Shirou toward applying with Copenhagen so he would believe he'd gotten the job all on his own. That was important. With that simple goal in mind, Taiga started to feel completely like her old carefree self again.

Sparring with her father in the Fujimura _dojo_ helped too.

"Excellent, Taiga-chan! Your bounce is back!"

Though Taiga was painfully reminded of Kiritsugu when her father said this, it made her happy at the exact same time, like Kiritsugu was near in some way. She wanted to believe Shirou might feel that way too, if only to lift some of his own sadness.

Taiga glanced at her watch: right about now, Otoko would be fulfilling her end of the bargain and guiding Shirou towards his getting a part-time job with her family's bar, without him even realizing he was getting the help he so stubbornly refused to ask for. With that in mind, she grinned back at her father and raised her _shinai_.

"I just get this feeling things are turning around for the better," she said.

Kichiro's smile was gentle. "Good. I'm glad." He raised his _shinai_ too, and when his and his daughter's clacked together, Taiga could already feel her victory in her hands as she held the hilt of her tiger-striped weapon.

* * *

"Fuji-nee!"

Taiga's ears pricked up eagerly at hearing Shirou call out to her with exuberance such that she hadn't heard in weeks when she came inside the Emiya house for dinner that night.

"What is it, Shirou?" she asked brightly, naturally acting all innocence.

"I got a job!" Shirou pumped his fist in triumph, and for a strangely brilliant moment, it seemed to Taiga that he was wielding the spatula he was using to cook dinner like a heroic blade, like he'd just pulled King Arthur's sword out of the stone.

Or something.

Taiga laughed. "That's wonderful, Shirou," she congratulated, having no trouble being genuine even though she already knew what had happened. As she said this, she sent up a silent thanks to Otoko.

She put her hands on her hips then and asked the obvious next question: "Where at?"

Shirou lowered the spatula and tucked it behind him, suddenly a little shy. "Well, it's…at this bar…."

Taiga, who was rather enjoying making a big show, went wide-eyed with over-the-top surprise. "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…? A bar? But, you're too young! You won't be old enough to even touch the alcohol for another ten years!"

"But the lady who owns the store said she was really impressed with everything else I could do," Shirou insisted. "You see, she picked me out of the street because she was having trouble with her sign—I guess she hates ladders or something—and I was the closest person around who could help her, and she was so grateful for my help that she offered me a job right there on the spot. I thought it was too good to be true, so she decided to put me to the test cleaning up the place, and after the job I did with that, that pretty much settled things." In spite of himself, he snuck in a small grin of pride.

Taiga was glad to see it, and if she had really been furious with Shirou, this alone would've been enough to persuade her to let him go ahead with the job. Being that this had all been pre-arranged, everything couldn't have worked out more perfectly. Though she hid a snicker on behalf of Otoko's anxiety over heights that her attempts to hang that sign of hers always left her whimpering and going jelly-legged. She'd been the same in high school, doing everything she could to avoid getting assigned a task that would have her do something like hang a banner for a school festival or the like.

"Oh, very well, I guess I can't argue with performance results like that," said Taiga, feigning an admission of defeat. And then she winked. "Know what this means though? You and I'll have to celebrate. Tomorrow is Sunday after all and we both have the day free…."

Shirou opened his mouth just as a burning scent wafted on the air. With a gasp, the boy turned tail back into the kitchen, shouting, "Hold that thought, Fuji-nee!" over his shoulder as he rushed to salvage what he could of their threatened dinner.

Shaking her head, Taiga followed him into the kitchen to give him the hand he hadn't asked for. But then she was beginning to think might be how things were going to be from now on.

* * *

The following day seemed to pull out all the stops for it to be absolutely and divinely beautiful for Shirou and Taiga. Taiga even woke up to an uplifting sensation in her chest that was augmented by the feeling that she could somehow feel Kiritsugu nearby again. Or maybe she still wanted to believe that so badly.

Either way, spring was awakening the world again with the melodic twittering of the Japanese bush warbler. Taiga was determined to maintain a lightness of spirit, and hoped she could pass that feeling on to Shirou. It was so wonderful to think that he might start smiling again, like he did before Kiritsugu died.

She arrived earlier than usual at the Emiya house so she could surprise Shirou with cooking breakfast, even dolling up and wearing a sleeveless dress, her hair done up in its usual energetic ponytail. It was a dress she'd only worn once before, and hadn't worn since, when she'd gotten the feeling that it had upset Kiritsugu somehow—not that he'd expressed it openly, but he'd fallen into one of his bouts of melancholia upon seeing her wear it, and she'd become convinced that she must've sadly reminded him of something or someone.

As for the breakfast she'd brought over, certainly Shirou enjoyed doing the cooking for them, but she wanted to treat him as much as she could today. She planned to use the fact that they were celebrating his getting a job to her full advantage.

Shirou greeted her rubbing a tired eye with his knuckle when he slid open the door. "Good morning…Fuji-nee," he croaked sleepily. "You're early. I just woke up, so I don't have breakfast ready ye—"

"Never mind about that, I'm beating you to it!" Taiga patted him on the head and pushed her way inside with her basket full of ingredients.

Blinking blearily and bemusedly, Shirou wandered into the kitchen after her, too half-asleep to argue as she started making the only thing she was good at making: octopus hotdogs over scrambled eggs.

"You go ahead and get dressed," Taiga told him with a grin. "I've got this."

Shirou gave her a look like he was skeptical and half-expected that she might even burn the kitchen down, but then let it go with a shrug and went back to his room to do as she asked. When he returned, she had hot plates piled high with eggs and little octopus hotdogs cooked to perfection, which was saying something for Taiga.

"Wow, Fuji-nee, I'm actually impressed," Shirou teased as the two of them dug in as usual at the table.

Taiga scowled at him, but then sniggered on her own bite of food, more glad to hear Shirou poking fun at her the way he used to than anything else. And when he joined her in her laughter, she laughed even harder, until both of them were snorting hilariously into their eggs and little octopi, which just made the whole situation all the more hilarious.

Their laughter echoed throughout the great big Emiya house, and Taiga's spirits lifted again to think, to hope…that Kiritsugu could somehow hear them.

After they cleaned up the breakfast things, Taiga took Shirou out so they could enjoy the sunshine in downtown Fuyuki. It was too early for the cherry blossoms to bloom, unfortunately, but the trees themselves, with their fuzzy buds just waiting for that moment, were lovely in their own way.

The shopping district too was a lot of fun, since Taiga led the way, and even though she knew Shirou was being his usual acquiescent self in the sense that he wasn't arguing about where they went because he still had this stupid idea stuck in his head that he didn't deserve to make his own choices in enjoyment (Taiga and Kiritsugu had talked about it a little when he'd been alive) she did her best to take his level of enjoyment into account. Basically she was just short of forcing him to have fun at the point of a sword, but this turned out to work quite effectively. Shirou soon seemed to awaken even more from the dark spell of grief and guilt that had taken ahold of him, and before he knew it, was having fun without even realizing it, window-shopping for cooking utensils, admiring the works of artisan clock-makers, books on shelves…. He even participated in a round or two of arcade games (of which Taiga was a huge fan, but of which Shirou wasn't particularly keen on)— _even_ getting him to stumble awkwardly through a set on DDR, though she was actually pleased that in this case, he had more fun being the spectator and cheering her on when she did her set and drew an admiring crowd with her adept performance.

"You know I'm not all that into pop, right?" Shirou told her, raising an eyebrow before taking a sip on the fruit soda she'd bought him.

"Gah, come on, it's called 'pop' because it's short for the English word 'popular'. As in everybody can find at least one thing about it they can groove to," said Taiga. She neglected however to add that she'd grown rather fond of the old _kayokyoku_ records from the 80's that Kiritsugu had collected on vinyl, something that had fed one of her many theories about his life before coming to Fuyuki and Miyama Town: that he had actually been an international rock star who had grown weary of the hard and fast drug-abusing and depraved lifestyle of a celebrity and had settled for the quiet life he'd come to at what became the Emiya residence. Somehow she could see him passionately grabbing a mike, wearing nothing but a black t-shirt over a white undershirt and jeans, screaming out lyrics that pushed the boundaries into thrash metal. With that hair and everything….

"Fuji-nee?"

Taiga jumped, and realized that Shirou had been trying to get her attention for a long minute now. "Oh…sorry, Shirou. I spaced out there for a sec."

Shirou watched her with genuine concern. "Were you…remembering something?"

"Oh, just silly things." Taiga gave a rather nervous giggle and pressed on. "Where shall we go next?"

Only then did either of them realize that they had wandered out of the shopping district and come to the park where the great Fuyuki Fire had taken place all those years ago…where Kiritsugu had rescued Shirou from death, and then taken him in to raise him as his son.

Shirou stopped, gulping down the last of his soda, but he didn't slacken his grip.

As Taiga watched him taking in the scene of the practically barren park—not because it wasn't a nice, lush park, but because too many citizens were too reminded of the painful event it represented—she thought she could almost see the memory of the horrific fire reflected in his golden-brown eyes, though she hadn't been there herself, and only recalled the event from shots on the evening news. It was sad, the way he was observing it, coupled with how much life was growing here and yet hardly anyone except the homeless keeping out of sight wanted to enjoy it, as if to enjoy life grown from death would be a sin. Kiritsugu had come here once on his own, so Taiga understood, but like everyone else, he'd tried to avoid it. Maybe for Shirou's sake, but he too had seemed to have a painfully personal connection to the place, beyond his having rescued Shirou when this place had been a fire-riddled field of death.

Heaving a sigh, Taiga was about to ask Shirou if he'd like to quickly move on to somewhere else, when instead he suddenly spoke up and said:

"Hey…let's take a walk through here." He blinked up at her. "Can we, Fuji-nee?"

Taiga considered him a moment. "If you really want to," she said, trying to be careful not to upset him.

"The grass looks nice," said Shirou, and even smiled a little. "We can lie out on it and watch the clouds." And then he tossed his soda cup into the nearby trash can.

So they did just that, picking a spot in the middle of the open park surrounded by trees, lying out on their backs and watching the clouds sail by across the bright blue ocean of perfect sky.

Taiga thought she might be lulled to sleep as a great peace settled on them both, neither of them speaking as they just watched. But she didn't fall asleep, perhaps because her mind raced again with thoughts of Kiritsugu being able to see this, that if she fell asleep, he wouldn't be able to see this beautiful day through her eyes.

And then Shirou woke her from her thoughts again, as she felt his small hand reach for hers. Sucking in her breath, she looked over at him, and saw that he was giving her a smile brighter than any he'd given since Kiritsugu's death—but also one laced heavily yet beautifully with sadness. Accepting his invitation, she squeezed his hand back, without words letting him know that she really would always be here for him, that he didn't have to be scared of being alone. And for her it was reassuring too, like he was wordlessly telling her back:

"Your little brother's still here. He doesn't want his big sister to worry so much."

Then Shirou sat up, and Taiga did the same. Though he let go of her hand to wrap his arms around his knees, in a way she felt he hadn't let go at all, and she too wrapped her arms around her own knees.

As they both looked up at the divine sky again, Shirou said, "Thank you, Fuji-nee. I…I feel better."

Taiga glanced at him hopefully. "You do?" When he nodded at her, she didn't hold back her sigh of relief. "Good. I'm glad. That's all I want for you, you know."

"Yeah. I know." Then Shirou addressed his knees. "It still hurts that…Kiritsugu's gone but…I'm…I'm so glad you're still here…Fuji-nee…." He swallowed and then took a deep breath. "But…there's something…that's been on my mind…ever since he died…."

"Yeah?"

"Just that…well…he just…always seemed so sad when he thought you and I weren't looking, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"But then…if I called out to him…he'd turn…and he'd smile…and for some reason...it was such a magical thing…to see that smile…like a small miracle…."

"You're right. I saw that too."

Taiga briefly closed her eyes as the breeze lifted. And then she could see it again, so clear in her mind: Kiritsugu staring rather forlornly out at the garden in all its springtime beauty, as though he felt it lacked something that for him turned his world grey, and then turning at the sound of her voice, and that smile that melted away all that sadness, so handsome in the gravity that it had overcome, and then, speaking her name:

 _"_ _Ah…Taiga-chan…."_

And stepping away from the garden, walking toward her, as if trying to forget the sad and mysterious things he'd been pondering….

 _Kiritsugu-san…._

There was a sniffle beside her, and Taiga opened her eyes to Shirou crying quietly with his face buried in his arms, his little shoulders shaking with every little sob. Then he lifted his tearful, golden-brown eyes to her and asked her, almost pleadingly, "Why wasn't there anything more I could do for him, Fuji-nee? I wish there had been…."

Taiga fought back her own tears and on sisterly impulse pulled the quaking Shirou into her arms, hugging him close against her, letting his tears soak into her dress. "I know Shirou…I ask myself that too…all the time…."

"You do…?"

"Uh-huh…."

Shirou clutched her tighter, gripping her dress in his fists that were still small, but growing bigger every day. There were no more words he could say, it seemed, as he let out a long, loud, cathartic cry that said even more than anything else. A cry that said: "Thank God, I'm really not alone after all."

Though she imagined that he would probably still force himself to be, just to prove he could stand on his own two feet, to grow up into a man as great as Kiritsugu had been, it was enough to know that at least from her, his "big sister Fuji", he wouldn't keep hiding anymore.

"Oh Shirou…" she croaked, pressing him close and kindly petting his red hair. "Stay as sweet as you are," she told him. "Don't ever change."

"Eh?" Shirou lifted his head, sniffling again and wiping at his eyes with the back of his arm before looking up at her once more.

Taiga smoothed back his bangs, beaming at him. "You'll grow up into a fine young man," she assured him. "I have no doubt in my mind about that."

Shirou hiccupped, but his smile came back too, and he nudged away more tears from his cheeks with the inside of his wrist. "'Kay, if you say so, Fuji-nee…then I believe in it."

Standing up, Taiga held out her hands and helped Shirou to his feet, and she gripped his hands fiercely in hers.

"Come on now, let's enjoy the rest of the day like it's the last," she told him fervently. "Remember what Kiritsugu used to say: 'if you're going to enjoy something, then do so to the fullest'."

And Shirou actually gave a laugh, even if it was watery. "Yeah. He was so much like a kid sometimes, wasn't he?"

Taiga's smile for him was warm and gentle, like sunlight banishing all sadness, as she thought back then to a moment such a long time ago, when she had beaten Shirou soundly at _kendo_ , and Kiritsugu had done his best to hide a laugh behind the sleeve of his black _kimono_ as he'd watched her boast and Shirou vow revenge. So much like a kid indeed.

"That he was, Shirou. That he was."

* * *

That night, Taiga had another dream revisiting an old memory of Kiritsugu. She had just finished owning him at _kendo_ as usual, and they were taking a tea break at the table, when they'd gotten on the topic of Shirou when Taiga told him how she wanted _kendo_ to be something special between the three of them, and that she was glad that she had at least been able to learn about herself through her time spent on _kendo_.

Kiritsugu had begun to feel that Shirou had been trying to find himself too.

 _"_ _I think…Shirou wants to prove himself too…ultimately to be of use to people, but still…."_

 _"_ _Ah, like you…?"_

 _"_ _Oh, well…. Maybe."_

 _"_ _Well, I don't see why that would be so bad. You're a very kind person, in your own way. And Shirou looks up to you. You can't know what he's capable of unless you let him test himself of course, but that's why we try things. Like_ kendo _."_

 _"_ _Hmmmm."_

 _And then Kiritsugu turned to the window, staring off into the distance as he became lost in thought once again._

 _This time, Taiga followed his gaze, and out in the garden, she once again saw that silver-haired, red-eyed woman gowned in white with gold trim of whom she'd dreamed the night of Kiritsugu's death, as if she'd grown suddenly from Kiritsugu's irises._

 _She tilted her head to one side and spoke again with great joy. "Don't you two worry one bit," she told them. "Shirou will be all right. He's strong."_

 _"_ _Yeah, he is," Taiga agreed, and Kiritsugu nodded, even as it became clear that he had become very fixated on this woman who had appeared again in the realm of dreaming._

 _And then Taiga began to wonder…._

 _But as she did, the world around her began to fade away, leaving only enough time for her to look at the silver-haired, red-eyed woman again and hear her say, "You'll do just fine too, Taiga-chan…."_

 _"_ _Why are you…?" But the question Taiga had only got stuck in her throat only—_

—for Taiga's eyes to flick open as she woke from her subconscious back into the real world of a brand new morning waiting for her.

"I'll do just fine," she murmured, and only then did she realize there were tears rolling down her cheeks. She wiped them away and rolled out of her futon, breathing in deep, full then of zest and determination such as she hadn't been in months.

Outside, the sky was still dark, just now purpling with the coming dawn. Yet she couldn't see herself falling back to sleep to catch another hour before going to the Emiya residence for breakfast before work.

In the little bathroom, she looked at herself in the small mirror over the sink, at the tangled mess of her hair just freed from the oppressiveness of the pillow.

 _This is the kind of mindset…I think…Kiritsugu woke up with…there was something…terrible that happened to him…and here in Fuyuki…in Miyama Town…he found a little solace…but he still had to give himself a reason…to get up in the morning…every morning…._

 _Shirou…and me…._

Taiga laid her hand over her heart, and felt how its beat quickened. "Kiritsugu-san…." She swallowed and closed her eyes a moment. "I'm keeping my promise. No matter what."

Suddenly then, she had this feeling that Kiritsugu was not only there, but that he was smiling at her back. And then she opened her eyes and touched her hair, remembering how she'd worn it up at Kiritsugu's funeral.

Her mouth went dry, and she licked her equally dry lips, before she ducked out of the bathroom, only to return with the small knife that her father had actually taught her to use in the event that she'd ever have to defend herself from a perverted creep in the shadows, one that as such she usually kept in her bag. With her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth, and concentrating very carefully, she took the knife to her long hair, brushing it out a bit beforehand, and attentively sheared away at it. The strips of hair fell like feathers into the sink, until she was left with hair as short as Kichiro Fujimura's.

When she finished, she shook it out, brushing away the small bits still clinging to the back of her neck and shoulders, and looked over the result.

"Hm, not bad," she thought aloud, admiring her new look proudly. At last, she felt less like a young girl, and more like a woman. And a little more confident in herself for it.

Only to deflate at the mess of hair she now had to clean out of her sink.

As usual, she hadn't _entirely_ thought things through. But then, not _everything_ about her had changed.

* * *

Shirou was the first one to see her new look, and he admitted to liking it from the first.

Instead of finding him making breakfast that morning, Taiga found him out in the garden with his old bow and arrow set, the one Kiritsugu had given him for his eighth birthday, practicing hitting the target he'd hung on the tree overlooking the irises, which Shirou still maintained in Kiritsugu's memory. He'd even put on the traditional _hakama_ , like he were back in the _dojo_ again.

He'd just hit another bull's eye when he turned at the sound of her joining him outside. "Fuji-nee! Oh, you cut you hair?"

"What, you don't like it?" Taiga pawed at it self-consciously.

"No, I do," said Shirou sincerely. "It looks good on you." He shouldered his bow and gave her the thumbs up.

"Good. I'm glad." Taiga grinned, this time shaking her newly shorn hair happily. "And what're you up to? Target practice?"

"Yeah." Shirou drew another arrow from the quiver slung over his back and admired the look of it with fond reminiscence. "I don't think…I can bring myself to take up _kendo_ again…but…I started to think…well, you'd always talked about maybe advising something like the Archery Club, right?"

"Yeah." Taiga swept the skirt of the dress she was wearing with a striped undershirt underneath her and sat down on the porch.

From where he stood in the garden, Shirou gave his "big sister Fuji" a grin, entirely happy and full of hope. "Then I think…I might like to join something like that…when I get into Homurahara Academy. So I'm already practicing."

Taiga winked at him. "All right then. I can approve of that. But you'd better work your butt off on those high school entrance exams. 'Kay?"

"M'kay," said Shirou, nodding seriously. And then he became a little uneasy at the sly look Taiga got in her eye.

"I look forward to it, Shirou. Then I'll be your English teacher…mwa-ha-ha-ha…."

"Ah…." Shirou gave a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his head. "Ah…yeah…that'll be…great…."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Taiga demanded, shaking her fist.

The two of them looked at each other, and then both busted out laughing, Shirou dropping his bow and the arrow because he had to clutch a stitch in his side like Taiga had to because they actually got to laughing just that hard.

For that happy moment, the two of them felt freer than they had in many, many weeks, drawn together in that same harmony they'd had when Kiritsugu would laugh like this with them. And as the clear morning rang out with the bright sounds of their laughter, Kiritsugu's irises bent in the gentle breeze, almost like they were holding their sides and laughing too.

THE END


End file.
